


Gods and Flower Crowns

by Peach_Skies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, F/F, Greek Gods AU, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, hq!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-03-09 17:21:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18921577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peach_Skies/pseuds/Peach_Skies
Summary: Every few millenia the gods retire, throw a giant party, and choose their successors.Kageyama has known since he was young that he was destined to be a King. But when Hestia reveals that he is to be the next Hades, he feels as though the gods are laughing at him- the Cursed Crown, the Haunted King, a life alone with the dead in the dark.Hinata was a flower nymph who only ever dreamed of greater things. When the gods pair him with the brooding, mean, and irritable Kageyama he's ready to pack up and head back to the countryside and flowers he knows so well.Different as night and day, Kageyama and Hinata must learn to work together to save the underworld and restore honor to their titles. Falling in love was never part of the plan, but it might just be the key to saving both of their worlds and ending their curses.





	1. Chapter 1

Every few millennia the gods on Mount Olympus retire. All of the heavens get drunk and go absolutely batshit, from river nymphs to wind spirits to the big gods themselves, anything goes (and it goes with gusto).

But long before that happens, heirs to the gods are chosen and trained to receive their mantles and take over their duties. This was a twelve day process known as the Coronation Ceremonies during which the entire heavens holds their collective breaths since the successors to the gods could be chosen from any family in the empire, and with that came lasting luxuries, fame, and wealth. Families of those chosen to become gods were afforded the highest level of comfort and prestige for generations.

The most coveted mantles were one of the Three Kings: Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, though a Hades had not been chosen for a very long time after the incident with the last one. The mantle of one of the Olympians was nothing to sneer it, as they also afforded a mass amount of wealth and comfort to the families of those chosen. The Primordial deities were honorable and respectable positions, but did not carry anywhere near the same level of prestige.

And not a single person knew how an heir was chosen. Parents found it impossible to narrow down a handful of attributes to prioritize in their children, and so those children were trained in everything. A completely holistic education was the norm: arts, language, history, cooking, combat, theory, sailing, hunting, dance, music.

And Kageyama Tobio had excelled in it all from the very beginning. By the time he was a young boy, he knew that he was destined to be a King.

His parents had known it, and it helped that their family tree boasted an Artemis and an Ares not too far off. His teachers had known it, and had favored him; his classmates had known it, and had ostracized him. Kageyama tried to take that in his stride, and supposed that greatness made for a lonely childhood.

When Hermes delivered delivered Kageyama his summons to the Coronation Temple, he was already in the capital city of Olympus preparing for the journey. His family’s caravan followed him on his three day pilgrimage down the far side of the mountain where the temple was located. Kageyama wished he could have made the journey on his own, but his parents had insisted. He had wanted the time to ruminate, to take three days to face his own fears and be the only voice in his head for once.

Well, the outcome would be the same either way, so when he arrived at the stairs of the temple on the third day he showed no fear. He approached alone, the only one able to pass, the red envelope clutched in his hand. The temple was beautiful. It was nestled deep in the woods on the back of the mountain, a wet and foggy place, dense in giant trees, with roots bigger and thicker than Kageyama himself. He had marveled at the deep silence of the place, thrumming with something ancient. The temple itself was nestled into the side of the hill, the marble rough and tinged light pink, and met suddenly with the deep, rich earth of the mountain.

Kageyama began his climb and did not stop until he reached the top, did not look back even once. He reached the top and noticed that the temple itself was not all that large. It was set into the mountain, across a small clearing, a small distyle that was not very ornate.

In the middle of the clearing stood two women around a campfire. Plush pillows encircled the ground by the fire. The first woman was a tall, straight-backed woman with a tight bun of greying hair on top of her head. Her arms were folded primly in her skirt, but when the younger woman said something she threw back her head and laughed, a wild motion contrasted by her appearance. He must have made a noise, because the two woman turned to look at him.

“Ah,” the older women said with a kind smile, “Welcome, my child, to the Temple of Coronation. I am Hestia, and this is my successor Yachi Hitoka.” They bowed, and Kageyama followed. Yachi was a small, blond girl with large brown and terrified looking eyes. When their eyes met she let out a small squeak and went pink.

“This is Yachi’s first day, so she’s a little nervous,” Hestia said pleasantly, and both Kageyama and Yachi jumped. “Would you like some tea, dear?”

“Yes,” Kageyama said, realizing he was craving a cup of tea just as she had said it, “Yes, that would be nice. Thank you.”

His feet took him towards the pillows, and when he sat down they were soft and warm beneath him. He yawned and stretched a moment, getting comfortable, feeling comforted, as the tension left his shoulders. He had forgotten what it felt like to relax, to let tension and stress slip away from him. It returned, quite suddenly, when he realized he had forgotten his manners, which he was always forgetting and being chastised for at home.

“Forgive me,” he sputtered, totally embarrassed, “How rude of me, I’mKageyamaTobioand-”

“Woah, woah,” Hestia chuckled, “Slow down. We know who you are, Tobio.”

“You do?”

“Yes,” Yachi said, “Hestia has always been responsible for the Coronation Ceremony, so her mantle is chosen before all the others; this was one of the first temples on Olympus, and it’s ours.” She said this last part with no lack of pride.

“Yachi came to me in a dream,” Hestia interjected happily, and Yachi blushed a little, “But everyone else is chosen this way, through the fire and the temple.”

“We’re still as clueless as the actual selection process,” Yachi continued, “But Hestia is always here to welcome the new gods. It’s our temple, but the home of every person chosen as a god.”

“We understand, especially nowadays, that it isn’t the most comfortable process,” Hestia said, “We’re here to help ease you into it. All gods start here, and so this temple is always here to welcome them. So please, sit, sit. Yachi, the tea, if you would.”

Yachi closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Something about the air got fuzzy and heavy in the space around her, and then she stuck her hands straight into the fire. Kageyama yelped and moved to stop her, but before he could she withdrew her arms, completely unharmed, and had pulled from the fire a tray of tea.

No, not just any tray of tea; it was the same exact tea set that had been his when he was a child. The bright orange teapot and matching cups were the most fun thing in his life as his classes and lessons began to pick up. Kageyama noticed, as Yachi poured him a cup, that the handle on the pot was cracked in the same place as his had been.

He drank the tea quickly and felt his heart rate slow. He felt his muscles untighten, just a little.

“Time passes differently here,” Yachi said, “There’s no need to rush. Would you like a snack?” She blew into her hands and pulled from the fire a small bowl of pork curry, and Kageyama ate happily. It was the first time in days since receiving his letter that he had felt a proper appetite. He savored the flavor and the familiarity it brought; it did not completely ease his nerves, but he felt a little more comfortable. Part of him wished he could sit at the fire forever, eating pork curry and drinking tea, but there was a destiny waiting for him.

“I’m ready,” was all he said. The two woman stood, and Hestia gestured for Yachi to take the lead.

“This way, Kageyama-kun,” she said, and her comforting smile gave away no hint of her previous anxiety. She led him past the columns, and Kageyama wanted to reach out and run his fingers over the marble. Inside the temple was a single room , at the far end of which was a hearth with a low burning flame. The room was quiet except for the sound crackling of the fire and the sound of his own breathing.

“All you have to do,” she explained, “Is stick your hand into the hearth. It won’t hurt.” She hurried to add at the concerned look on Kageyama’s face. “When you pull your arm out, it will be marked with the name of your mantle.”

Kageyama glanced dubiously at the fire in the hearth, but nodded anyways.

“This is where I leave you,” she said, “When you exit the mountain you will be alone. Goodbye, Kageyama-Kun. Good luck.” She bowed and left, and the room felt quieter. The fire suddenly sounded much louder.

Kageyama closed his eyes and breathed deeply, then opened them and approached. He kneeled at the hearth and stared into the flames. He gave one final glance at his left arm before steeling himself and thrusting it into the fire.

It didn’t exactly hurt. It felt more like the air was compressing around his arm, locking it in a tight grip, while simultaneously pricking his skin, just on the right side of too uncomfortable. Just as Kageyama was beginning to feel overwhelmed, it stopped. The fire vanished into smoke, leaving Kageyama to sit in stunned silence in a dark room. His arm was throbbing, and he climbed shakily to his feet to find his way back out of the temple. It was dark outside but the clearing was illuminated by moonlight. Kageyama willed his legs to stop shaking to walk back into the light by the embers of the dying fire and take a look at his arm.

There, on his bicep, a black and inky looking tattoo, and his heart went cold as ice. This symbol had not been seen on a person for eons, after the incident, after it was dubbed ‘the cursed crown.’ But he knew the symbol and knew it well, as it haunted the nightmares of all Olympian children. Three snakes wrapped around a scepter: the mark of Hades.

He stared at it a moment longer before letting out a short, humorless laugh. King. Well, what was there to say? He had prayed and the gods had delivered. He just wished he had known how deeply their sense of irony ran.

The Cursed Crown. The Haunted King. A lonely life in the underworld, a ghost among the dead. _Well_ , he thought as he made the slow descent back down the mountain, _I guess it’s pretty fitting after all._ Because what is a ghost, if not something feared and hated and misunderstood?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, but the next one should follow pretty soon!

Hinata was pretty sure people only got summoned to the capital when they were getting coronated or beheaded. The coronation ceremony had ended two days ago and he wasn’t important enough to warrant a public beheading, so either he was in for something much, much worse or...well, what else could it be?

But he had to admit he had always longed for the opportunity to see Olympus up close. His family were anthousai, flower nymphs, so he had never traveled all that far beyond the countryside. This didn’t exactly bother him; he loved his flowers, loved frolicking about the fields and hunting berries through the forest. He loved swinging from trees and sleeping under the stars and feeling the grass beneath his feet. Yes, he loved it all, and apparently you have to wear shoes in the city, all the time, even in your own home, so he’s heard. But even a nymph could have dreams of something a little grander. 

Will they be mad he’s a day late? Hermes had shown up late the previous night, had woken up half the forest with his trumpets. He was a small, dark-haired boy with a gold stripe through his hair and had introduced himself as Nishinoya, “No, wait, shit, I mean I’m The Royal Messenger of the Gods, Hermes. The old guy gets mad if I don’t say the whole thing.” He added with a grumble. 

“You crashed into my campsite,” Hinata replied. 

“Oh yeah, sorry about that,” he said, “I’m here to give you this. You’re Hinata Shouyo, right?” He lifted his raised fist into the air. Hinata, confused, bumped his own fist against it. 

“It’s not a,” Nishionya said, roaring with laughter, “It’s not a fistbump, look.” He raised his fist again and then snapped his fingers and a red envelope magically appeared between them. 

“Uwooo…” Hinata breathed, “That’s so cool!” 

“Right?!” Nishinoya said, puffing up his chest proudly. The letter was a red envelope, marked with the seal of Olympus. He was being summoned by the gods, him, and then Nishinoya just flew off like Hinata wasn’t possibly facing decapitation. 

After several hours of panicked packing and goodbyes to his family, he set out on foot to the capital. The landscape changed countless times during his journey, from dense forests to valleys to varying types of towns and small cities. Hinata would have enjoyed the journey if he had not been in fear of his life; even still, when he reached the capital city he took a moment to marvel at the large, marbled temples that were so tall they blocked the sun. But as he made his way further into the city, his awe faded for growing panic. 

The city was a large, overwhelming place, and the large temples quickly became domineering things that loomed over him. There was hardly any green things, no grass or trees or dirt, no flowers except the ones dying at the feet of altars. Perhaps the worst part was all the people; Hinata had never seen so many bodies crammed into such a tiny space. 

He felt like he was being carried from street to street, each body bumping him this way and that without regard. Hinata felt surrounded. He was having a hard time finding his breath, pressed up against all these people, and each street he took dumped him out into another mindless crowd. His heart rate began to pick up as he frantically began pushing his way out of the throng of people. It was too hot, too hot, too hard to breathe or steady himself, and he felt panic begin to claw up his throat until he spotted a way out. 

He burst out onto a side street and began to run blindly until his lungs hurt. His feet carried him away from the noise and the crowds, into darker parts of the city. He ran, even as his lungs burned, and wanted to keep running, running, running…

When he finally slowed down enough to catch his breath, he looked down and realized he was standing on grass. Grass! Beautiful green in a city of white marble! Hinata looked around and realized his feet had carried him to a large, luscious park, and he wandered further in, brushing his hand against an especially beautiful cyprus. He looked up through the leaves and saw the sun shining through them.

Thank the gods, he thought to himself as he wandered towards the thicker part of the park. The dirt between his toes grounded him. The sound of wind through the leaves comforted him. He was both surprised and relieved to find there were hardly any other people, save for the occasional nymph he passed, yet he could not shake the feeling that someone was watching him. At one point he paused, tilting his head in the direction of a snapped branch. When no one came forward or made another noise Hinata shrugged and shook it off as nerves. As he continued he noticed the greenery become less tended, more wild and of its own. Hinata realized that the back of the park must press into the forests of the mountainside, and pressed on until he came across a small river. 

Rays of sunlight filtered through the trees and laid on the water, and the river bubbled soothingly. Hinata sat down in a patch of sun, and the grass was warm beneath him. The noises of the city were far away and distant, drowned out by the serenity of nature. Hinata hummed along with the river and decided to rid himself of his lingering anxiety by crafting a flower crown. 

He spoke a prayer into his hands and then placed them on the ground; where his hands touched, wildflowers grew. He plucked the best ones, flowers of vibrant blues and purples, his favorite colors for his fiery hair, and wove them into a crown. He worked the crown slowly, deliberately, scooting every now and again to a fresh spot of grass and to stay in the light of the sun. He was known back home for being able to weave the prettiest, most elaborate crowns; no one else could properly summon the rarer and more delicate flowers as he could, or weave them into shape. 

When the crown was finished he placed it on his head and yawned. What a long day, he thought to himself, and the sounds of nature carried him to sleep. 

But he was startled awake, hours later, to the sensation that he was being watched again. It was completely dark now, and the grass was whispering a warning that something dangerous and feared had followed him. That it had found him. 

“Hello?” Hinata called out, jumping up from his spot and peering into the dark. He tried to keep the fear out of his voice, even though his legs were shaking. From a spot between trees he saw the flash of several glowing red eyes. 

“I-if you’re looking to f-fight,” Hinata continued, “You better...you…” A ray of moonlight shone through the trees and Hinata caught a glimpse of a massive, hulking creature, sharp claws, sharp teeth. When it growled Hinata went pale. The beast stepped out beyond the trees, and all the grass it stepped on died at its feet. Hinata tumbled to the ground as it approached, unable to move, unable to think, except about the irony of dying before the gods could kill him themselves. The closer it got the more Hinata could see its flesh was not quite flesh; it was inky black, wispy at the surface like the beast was made of shadows.

Finally it stood over him until Hinata was staring up at the jaws of a giant, snarling, three-headed dog.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! Life got busy lol. Anyways, here's this chapter! Where's it going? No one knows! But at least we get to see Daichi in the next chapter!

Hinata’s head was still reeling as he made his way through the deep forest of the backside of Olympus. These forests were nothing like back home in the countryside, nor like the small woods he had encountered in the city; these trees spoke to something deep and ancient. Even the earth beneath his feet felt alive with something powerful, something arcane. The energy pulsating from the trees and the earth did nothing but exacerbate Hinata’s anxieties as he contemplated what was to become of him. 

Hinata, a god? Surely there had been a mistake. What did he know about godliness, about ruling, about divinity? Hinata knew how to grow flowers, to speak to trees, to weave plants into shapes. He knew about the stars shining overhead overnight, too many to count and all so familiar. He knew about whispering secrets with the grass, about skipping over rivers and lakes with his little sister. He had thought his world and the world of the gods would be separate spheres, and yet. And yet. 

“Would you move a little faster?” Snapped an angry Kageyama, and Hinata jumped out of his skin and out of his anxieties. “I would like to get this over with as soon as possible.”

“It’s not like I asked you to tag along,” Hinata replied, which was technically true. Hinata has asked for a guide, Cerberus volunteered, and Kageyama had insisted on coming along. Still, Hinata was glad for the company, even if Kageyama was a grumpy jerk. And Cerberus, at least, was enjoying himself, sniffing curiously at everything and barking happily, even fetching large sticks that Hinata threw. If Cerberus was unfazed, Hinata figured he could relax a little too. 

“So,” Hinata asked after the silence had become too pressing, “What was the temple like for you? Were you scared?” 

“No,” Kageyama scoffed, “I always knew I would be a god.”

“How’d you know?”

“It’s what my parents told me. It’s what my teachers told me. Everyone could see it.”

“Didn’t that make it even more scary?”

“What?”

“I mean, no one knows for sure how it happens,” Hinata said, “Growing up believing that something must be true, but not really knowing. Only hoping. Sounds pretty terrifying to me.” Kageyama scowled, but said nothing in return. Fear was not an emotion Kageyama had ever allowed himself, or been allowed, to feel. To be afraid meant to doubt everything he had been told, everything he had been taught. To be afraid meant to doubt his own skill, his own might, and the very deepest sense of who he was. 

To be afraid meant to ask the question that had lingered, threateningly, menacingly, at the border of his entire life: what if he failed? Even now, with the snake and scepter burned into his arm, even now that question lingered. 

“I’m terrified,” came Hinata’s quiet voice. It broke through Kageyama’s own thoughts so sharply he paused to look back at the red-headed nymph. His expression was contemplative, but still...soft. 

“Aren’t you afraid,” Kageyama found himself asking, “Of being afraid?” Hinata shrugged. 

“If you run from fear you can’t control it.” 

Kageyama had no response to that, and was glad he would not have to come up with one: they had finally arrived at the pink marble stairs of the temple of Hestia. 

“Finally,” Kageyama sighed, “This nightmare is finally over. Goodbye forever.” Hinata pouted and stuck his tongue out at Kageyama, who rolled his eyes and sighed. “Let’s go, Cerberus.”

The dog whined and turned toward Hinata, who looked genuinely sad to see him go. He rested his head on the dogs neck and spoke softly to him. It was a nice scene, nice enough where Kageyama almost felt moved enough to promise the pair would see each other again, but the moment was interrupted by a familiar noise.

“Do you hear that?” Kageyama murmured. Hinata looked at him confused, but the sound was only getting louder and louder. It sounded strangely like…

“Trumpets!” Hinata and Kageyama exclaimed at the same time, Hinata a lot more excitedly. Kageyama thought, very briefly, about leaving Cerberus behind and making a run for it. He had a feeling that nothing good was to come from being visited by Hermes, but just then the messenger of the gods burst through the trees, shaking the silence of the forest with his trumpets.  
“Shoyou!” Hermes exclaimed, “Man am I glad I caught you before you went up that mountain. I would’ve had to wait for you to come down, and Daichi would’ve been mad if I didn’t get this delivered in time.”

“Lord Zeus sent you?” Kageyama asked, as Hermes and Hinata fist bumped. “Why, Lord Hermes?”

“Hold on, let me find the right letter,” he said, “And call me Nishinoya! All those royal titles can get pretty stuffy.”

“Etiquette dictates…”

“Bah! We’ve known each other for long enough. Shoyou, since you’re not a god yet, you can call me Lord Nishinoya!”

“Ok!” Hinata exclaimed. “Lord Nishinoya!” The two laughed raucously, and Kageyama thought that even Cerberus looked a bit annoyed. 

“Lord Nishinoya,” Kageyama pressed, “What is it you’re doing here?”

“Oh, right, right. Here.” Nishinoya lifted his hand and pulled from the air a scroll that was sealed with the of mark Zeus, the lightning bolt. “It’s for both of you.”

“It is?” Hinata exclaimed, “Move, Kageyama, I want to read what it says-”

“Stop shoving me, jackass, I’m reading it first-”

“Why do you get to read it first!”

“Because I’m taller than you, now shut up.”

“You guys are funny,” Nishinoya chuckled, “But I gotta get going. Don’t wanna be late to my delivery to the beautiful Kiyoko! Later!” And with a blare of horns he jumped into the air and flew off.

“What does the letter say, Kageyama?” Hinata asked, poking him repeatedly in the side, to which Kageyama responded by grabbing Hinata’s stupid head and squeezing. 

“It says,” Kageyama read as Hinata yelled out, “That we are being summoned to an audience with Lord Zeus, immediately upon your return from the temple of Hestia.”

“Wait, really?” Hinata said, snatching the scroll from Kageyama’s hands after escaping Kageyama’s grip. “Together?”

“Yeah,” Kageyama sighed heavily, “Together. Which means I’m stuck with you for gods know how long. So would you please hurry up and get your dumbass up that mountain?”

\----------

Hinata hadn’t realized just how long it would take to climb up to the temple, but each step took him closer to a destiny he could not fathom. So much had happened in so little time. As Hinata paused to contemplate what was before him, he turned to look back, and was calmed by the beauty of what he saw. 

He had climbed high above the trees that stretched out for miles before him, and the golden light of the sun rested gently on the fog and the clouds and the tips of great, green trees. Hinata looked for a minute more before he continued up the mountain. Whatever was to come, he would face it.

At the top of the mountain he came across a grassy meadow, in the middle of which was a campfire and a girl. 

“Hello, Hinata,” she called, “Welcome to the temple of Hestia. Please, come take a seat.” Hinata approached, full of apprehension, but with each crackle and snap of the fireplace, he felt his anxiety replaced with warmth. 

“I am Hestia,” said the girl as Hinata took a seat next to her, “And this is the temple of coronation, home to Hestia since the beginning. It is hear the Fates shall reveal your destiny and your mantle.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Hestia is always the first to know the chosen heirs, even if we do not know their mantles,” she explained. “Are you alright? You look a bit sick.” Hinata was feeling rather queasy, as the reality of his situation hit him once again. 

“I don’t think I can be a god,” Hinata whispered as his anxieties mounted. “What if there was some mistake?” Hestia looked at him a moment before speaking. 

“Did you know, Hinata, that Hestia is the first of the gods chosen, and the only one who does not go through the coronation process?” When Hinata shook his head, she continued. 

“My predecessor told me I came to her in a dream. When she first saw me she cried, though we had never met before. And though I did not understand, I cried as well.”

“Hestia is different than the other gods,” the girl continued. “In some ways Hestia is...separate. They are the center of the pantheon, the only one unmarked, the one who must ensure that the gods feel at home. Feel safe.”

“Why?” Hinata asked, and Hestia shrugged. 

“Fear is dangerous when left unchecked, and there is an entire world to look after. The gods must know that it is their world to protect, to nourish. When we cherish the world, the trees, the stars, the harvest, each other, the things living and dead, we are a part of it. That is how the gods survive.”

“Can gods die?” Hinata asked, and Hestia was quiet for a moment. 

“We can perish,” she answered, “I don’t know if that’s quite the same thing. But the pantheon is a family; it is my duty to protect it. Should even one god fall out of balance with the others, unpredictable things could happen.”

“So, have there never been any mistakes? Never?”

“It is not a matter of mistakes, Hinata,” Hestia said softly, “Fate has chosen you, but everything from here on out is a choice.”

“Well,” Hestia continued in a cheerier tone, “You can imagine the pressure. Who was I, Yachi Hitoka, to take on such a task? Keep the gods together? Keep the family safe? I was terrified. Still, I am terrified.”

“Then how do you deal with all of this?” Yachi smiled at him, warm and reassuring. 

“I choose to believe in me,” she said simply. “Do you believe in you, Hinata, or do you believe in fear?” Hinata thought back to what he had told Kageyama earlier. _If you run from fear you can’t control_. Determined, he stood, unsure of his future but determined to face it. 

“I’m ready,” Hinata said, looking towards the temple.

“Excellent,” came Yachi’s reply, “Let’s begin.” 

\----------

Coming out of the temple, Hinata rested his hand against the cool marble. He ran his fingers over it as he looked at the mark that now rested permanently on his forearm: the unmistakable shape of a pomegranate wrapped in flowers and thorns. 

\----------

At the bottom of the mountain Kageyama waited with a mix of apprehension and impatience for Hinata to return. His life was unfolding rapidly before him in a way he could not predict. A sense of growing anxiety began to creep up through his throat, and he closed his eyes against the feeling. But the panic began to rise, as did his fear, and he felt his body turn cold. 

It is a coldness that starts behind his eyes and works its way down his spine, all the way through to his fingertips. Not again, he thought, as he gave into the overwhelming feeling that he was slipping away from his own body. When he opened his eyes, he was back in those dark, endless tunnels. He moved forward and went nowhere. Somewhere behind him in a thicker, sticky darkness, something lurched towards him relentlessly, some monstrous multitude that was coming for _him_ , a thousand voices gasping his name, his name and a chant _closest to life closest to death_. An endless stumbling through dark tunnels, moving forward but never away from that grasping thing in the darkness behind him. 

Suddenly, something faint began to glow in the tunnel ahead of him, a light in the tunnel. Kageyama stumbled forward and reached towards it, fingers stretching from that relief from darkness…

When Kageyama opened his eyes, Hinata was peering up at him curiously. Kageyama’s hand twitched. 

“What do you want, dumbass?” 

“Rude!” Hinata exclaimed. “I came back down and you looked like you were asleep standing up. Why’re you so pale?”

“Shut up,” Kageyama said, “Let’s get going already. Lord Zeus doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”


End file.
